


No Easy Redemption

by Brokensoul



Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: Demon, F/F, F/M, Gothic, M/M, Multi, Murder, Obsession, Orgy, Possession, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:36:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brokensoul/pseuds/Brokensoul
Summary: This is a sort of parallel story to Skin Deep, although the ending will likely be quite different, I don't know it yet. It mostly takes place in modern times, with flashbacks to other times. It is the story of a man who has grown weary of himself, his past, and his soul, and doesn't believe he will ever find redemption.Gold is possessed by an incubus demon while at a sceance trying to contact his dead true love. Many years later he finds his reincarnated lover who doesn't remember, but after his many lonely demonic years, doesn't believe he deserves love.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> This is your warning! This story is dark, the characters will suffer! Please do not come on and complain that your favorite character is not being treated right! If you don't like the way the story is going, you don't have to read it. This Rumple at his core is paranoid, obsessive, and generally fucked up. He will do bad things! I will tag each chapter, but be aware of what you are getting into.  
> Those of you who like this kind of thing, enjoy!

The moonlight was tremulous, watery and weak, not strong enough to illuminate the narrow alleyway. Dark buildings hunched their bulks over it like overweight decrepit old men, watching through blank eyes of dusty windows, and a soft sighing of night breeze their muttering voice. The wind blew eddies of trash against the brick walls, where it settled, dying scraps of paper that had outlived their use. The place reeked of loneliness and despair.

From the purple shadows came a rhythmic tapping sound, disturbing, and following it a dark figure, all in black, cutting through the fetid air like a blade. He was walking with the aid of a gold handled cane, and his eyes shone unnaturally in the writhing bleakness. His face was impassive, emotionless, as he made his way through the night. A tramp huddled against the far wall, and seeing the apparently wealthy gentlemen, called out from his nest of empty bottles, "Hey, you got some cash? I know you do, come on, man, you got plenty! Give me some!"

The elegant man ignored the drunk, passing by without a glance, when suddenly a filthy hand shot out and grabbed his immaculate trouser leg. A grin, a knife blade pulled from the cane, a flash of gold tooth, and the homeless man lay bleeding out from the throat, soon dead as a pile of rags.

Soon the tap, tap, tap left the alleyway, accompanied by a jaunty whistle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Man in Black

Gold stood just outside the circle of stuttering flouresence afforded by the streetlight, his dark clothing camouflage for a man of facile morals in the late evening. Cradling his long fingers around a match to hide the flame, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, blowing it out with a long sigh of satisfaction. He could see the low lamplight glittering through the girl's bedroom window, tinged pink by the glass ruby lampshade he knew it held. He shifted his weight and imagined her reclining there in the rosy glow, spread out on her white bedspread and reading a romantic novel. She probably had all kinds of ridiculous ideas about love, he snorted to himself. Gold had no such illusions to trouble his soul, no aspirations toward romance or other false emotions. He wondered if she became excited by the steamier parts of her books. Did she touch herself, all alone in her room, stroking her innocent body to a shuddering climax, sweat beading on her smooth brow as she came? Did she strain her white thighs and rub in desperate motion as she imagined some blonde haired prince? Gold chuckled darkly, without real humor, and took another deep drag of his cigarette. He watched the window until it went dark, and flicking a graceful hand at the lamppost, the streetlight winked out. The glowing red end of his cigarette was now the only light to be seen.

The man in black stood, silently chain smoking as the moon made its way slowly across the sky, a white ship on an onyx sea. Eventually he turned and tapped away, leaving behind a pile of ash that the wind kissed and carried away. And then there was nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Gold arrived home he headed to his large bedroom. The room had a high vaulted ceiling that seemed alive with crawling shadows. The wallpaper was a flocked, deep mauve, and the walls contained an odd assortment of framed insects, bones, and portraits of people long passed on. A sitting area was located on the far side, holding a fireplace above which hung an enormous carved and gilt mirror. A tufted loveseat crouched nearby, covered in velvet to match the walls. On an ornate table rested an old gramophone, and faded oriental rugs covered the dark wood floor. In the middle of the room lurked a half tester bed, draped with dark grey curtains and bedding, all in silk. All in all, it was somber, foreboding, and Victorian. 

It suited him.

Gold walked over to the closet and hung up his suit coat. He removed his cuff links and sleeve garters and placed them in a tray on an ebony wood nightstand next to his bed. By the wavering moonlight he left the room and walked down the hallway to the water closet. The hall was ink black, but it inconvienced him not at all. Once he entered the tiny room he yanked on the cane handle, freeing the hidden knife. He turned the handle on the sink and held the blade under the running water, blood turning from red to transparent pink as it swirled down the drain.

He stared into the carved mirror overhanging the wash basin and didn't recognize the face. His own visage was alien to him, a stranger who meant nothing. When he looked into the eyes, though, oh he recognized those. A demon stared back.

He wiped the blade on a hand towel and slipped it back into the sheath in the cane. He carefully washed his face and hands, cleaned his teeth. His thoughts kept returning to the small and dainty woman whose window he had watched. Watched every night. The thoughts circled endlessly, like the bloody water down the drain, going nowhere useful. But he was a patient man, if no other virtues attached to him, and he could wait. He was excellent at waiting.

Gold removed the rest of his clothes, draped them over the butler stand , and slipped naked beneath the dark silk sheets. He lay still in the breathing shadows, alone with his iniquity, and hoped that the dreams wouldn't come. 

They came anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gold stood in the middle of the dusty street, the clapboard buildings on either side quiet for now. He knew the townsfolk watched from within, awaiting some unknown signal. The desert breeze blew harsh and gritty against his exposed face, making microscopic cuts in his skin. He held the knife at his side, loosely, ready to move in an instant. His long coat flapped about his thin body, too big, his masters having denied him nourishment to prepare him for this task. A beat up western hat was shoved low on his head, shading his glittering eyes. He was starving.

With a bang the door of the nearby boarding house flew open and four rough looking men boiled out. One carried a large log, two carried pitchforks, and one, incongruously, a cast iron frying pan. Gold easily sidestepped the swing of a pitchfork, stepping in close with his blade and slicing open the abdomen of the first man. The others skidded to a stop as the man looked down in wonder, cradling his intestines in his hands. His shocked expression remained fixed on his face as he keeled over on the dirt street. The man with the frying pan shouted in fury and rushed at Gold, brandishing his odd weapon over his head. Spinning around gracefully as a dancer, Gold stabbed him in the back, driving the long knife straight through to the man's heart. Suddenly, Gold felt a piercing pain in his lower leg, the other pitchfork wielder had stabbed him in the calf. Gold slit the farmer's throat like fresh bread. He turned to the last man, who halfheartedly threw the log at him and turned to flee. Gold caught him by the collar and snaked his hand around the cowboy's throat, opening a gaping wound ear to ear.

He then turned to the boarding house, holding his bloody knife, face cold as the grave. It was late afternoon as he began his search of the town's buildings. He would not go hungry today. 

As the sun went down and the man had in black headed out into the desert, the last rays shone through the dirty windows of the silent buildings, landing uncaring on the bodies of the men, women, and children who used to populate a once lively town. A ghost town, now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In his room, Gold slept fitfully, his face shining with tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much appreciate kudos and comments.


	3. Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin of Gold's darkness

Present Day, Storybrook, Maine

The females look, drawn like lambs to a wolf, they cannot help it. Young and old alike, frightened, titallated, aroused, he is impossible to ignore. Blood sings, burns, pain and joy. They look, desire, long for. Some men, too, feel this call. Even children on the edge of adulthood. He is a drug, a dream, a nightmare of honey and ash. He smells like honeysuckle, sex, a coppery hot blood.

They whisper to each other, the townsfolk, as they see the man slide into the diner booth. He's alone of course. They whisper vile gossip, "alcoholic ", "pervert", "devil worshipper". All the usual nasty, gleeful rumors. They can say these things because they are better, cleaner, than him, they know this without a doubt.

Of course, he can hear them, though they don't realize it. He could hear them if they were in a separate room. The whispers don't bother him, the truth, he knows, is much worse than anything these feeble minds imagine. He's only here to watch the girl, watching her soothes the howling emptiness. But Gold remembers. He cannot forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1857, London

Gold arrived to the mansion on foot just as the last carriage was pulling up. He couldn't afford to own or even rent a carriage, and in fact was spending all his hard earned savings on this event. When he'd learned that the most famous spiritualist in Britain would be conducting a sceance in his own city, he was beyond excited, and began doing everything he could to scrape together enough money to purchase entrance. He felt this was his only chance to make amends, he had to reach his true love on the other side, he was desperate.

Gold followed the other patrons into a large parlor where a round table stood, ringed by chairs, and covered in flickering candles. Everyone stood around nervously, waiting for the spiritualist to appear. He wasn't sure what to expect, wasn't sure if he believed in this at all, but he would try anything and everything. Suddenly every head turned as a large man strode into the room.

"Welcome this evening to you all." His voice was sonorous and deep. "Please, everyone, if you would have a seat around the table?" The man spoke in a low, mysterious tone. "I know you are all eager to reach your dear departed loved ones beyond the veil," he murmured as they all took seats. "I promise you shall each have a chance to do excactly that. I, as you no doubt have been informed, possess the extraordinary ability to channel the spirits of those who have passed beyond this world! This I will do for you, but!" The huge man held up a finger, "there are strict rules for the sceance! All gaslights must be extinguished during our gathering. If an apparition should appear, you must not attempt to touch it. No one must attempt to touch my person while I am under the influence of a spirit. These strictures are of utmost importance. I, and only I, have the skill to contain these revenants within my earthly body. If you disturb my aura during a possession, the spirit may leave my body and enter another. You will not be capable of discharging such a being!"

The patrons looked at each other, some twitching, some smiling anxiously, as they arrange themselves around the table. Gold noticed the well dressed women and gentlemen tried to avoid sitting next to him. He felt self conscious; he was clean, but his clothes were worn and patched, and he was obviously not of their class. The seat at his right remained empty, and so the medium settled there.

"Now, if you would please join hands." As they complied, the spiritualist waved a hand at his assistant, who went about extinguishing the gas lamps. The room appeared eerie in the shadows.

Gold's hands simultaneously felt sweaty and clammy as he clasped hands with the medium and the person next to him. The darkness made him nervous, and he made a strong effort not to let the shaking in his legs move up and make make itself felt in his hands. He didnt want anything to cause him to get ejected from this meeting before he discovered what had happened to his love. 

The medium's head fell forward no suddenly jerked back. "Is there someone here with a relative who name begins with A?" He demanded in a deep voice. A young crying female with a pale face and dark mourning clothes answered," I have! My mother. Agnes!"

The medium told the young woman Agnes wished her well and was doing fine beyond the veil. Things went on much like this for about an hour. Gold was bored.

Golds hands had started to sweat and he was seriously thinking of giving this up as a loss, when the woman holding his hand gripped it harder of a sudden, and began to shake. He tried to let go of her hand, trembling in fear, but she clutched him all the harder and he found it impossible to disengage. The woman looked straight at Gold, her eyes blank, her cheek twitching, and then opened her mouth wide. Somehow, freakishly, she spoke without moving her lips, "You shall be the vessel, you shall accept the darkness of the years, you shall eat the souls, and may it shatter you."


	4. Hunger

Present day, Storybrooke

Gold shook his head as if to dislodge the morbid memories. The many lifetimes he had endured weighed on his shredded soul with an unbearable weight, the pain of centuries crushing him, the years of enslavement could not be endured. His only solace, his only amelioration, were the hours he spent watching the girl. So here he sat in this overbright diner feeling like a great ragged vulture, spying on the innocent creature from beneath his long lashes. If she felt his unclean stare, she gave no sign, and though he felt shame he knew he would not stop. He could not stop. She was his lifeline, his only source of illumination in his pitch black world.

Gold began to feel the demon inside stirring, becoming hungry, and he knew he needed to leave before the patrons in the restaurant began to be overly affected. Already he could see signs of it. Most of the women and a couple of the men were shooting covetous glances his way, desire glowing in their greedy eyes. The long legged waitress strode over to where he sat and leaned toward him, pouting her red lips.

"Anything I can get you?" She asked, looking hopeful and breathing a little hard. 

"Coffee, please, black." 

She looked disappointed at his brusque manner, but walked away to get his order, swinging her hips and glancing over her shoulder to see if he watched. He did not, for he had eyes for only one. The tiny blue eyed beauty, he had noticed, seemed to be the only one immune to his power, much as his long gone love had been. How he missed her, the raw pain just as agonizing today as it had been almost two hundred years ago. 

The waitress returned with his drink, and placing it before him asked,"Are you sure you don't want anything else?" And she lightly leaned in and ran her hand up his wool clad leg. There was a clatter of silverware as a red haired woman at the bar threw down her utensils in a fit of jealous pique and glared at the waitress. The man at the end of the counter gasped and licked his lips, winking at Gold, shifting on his stool. 

Gold could feel the sexual tension in the diner rising as the people responded to the demon's hunger, and while he could feed from that, he knew this was not the place. He smiled at the waitress, watching her shiver with need, as he threw down a ten, and with one last longing glance at his heart's desire, he strode regretfully back out into the night.

The air in the diner behind him seemed to sigh and exhale at his departure, a damp disappointment as if the building were a living thing, deflated and dejected.

Gold needed to feed, but he needed to find the right place, somewhere the sexual tension would be high but he himself could remain unnoticed. The incubus demon that was part of him could be nourished by violence or sex, and it didn't have to be him involved in the act, the emotions just had to be strong enough to siphon. He was beginning to feel a little desperate as he stalked the dark streets. He was becoming very uncomfortable, the hunger now a lancing pain in his soul. He could always resort to violence if he had to, and the prospect did not dismay him, but he didn't wish to call attention to himself. Not now, when he needed to stay in this town, had to stay near her. 

Stalking up the dark street, his black trench coat billowing behind him as the wind picked up, his ears detected a sound. A deep bass thrumming that he could feel in his ancient bones. Somewhere up ahead there was a nightclub, the music escaping into the misty night. Low fog rolled over the ground, obscuring the faces of passers by, rendering them vague ovals without features, ghosts. Perfect. 

Gold picked up his pace, tapping his gold headed cane on the cracked sidewalk, following the heartbeat sound of electric drumming. His eyes were predatory, his grin feral, and he went swaggering to the entrance of a decaying building. A small flick of his wrist and he was able to bypass the lengthy entry line and proceed directly inside. No one noticed or exclaimed. 

The club was dark, throbbing with music, flashing lights, and sweaty gyrating bodies. The bass line thrummed and the humid bodies pulsed through the room like a bloodstream, hot and nourishing. Gold could feel the lust heavy in the atmosphere and inhaled deeply. He made his way over to a small table in the darkest corner. A quick glance at the couple seated there and they decided it was time to return to the dance floor, the woman slanting her eyes up Gold's body as her nervous companion pulled her away. 

Gold settled in the rickety chair and leaned back, making himself as comfortable as possible. He removed his black leather gloves and laid them on the sticky tabletop with a curl of his lip, but did not take off his coat. He pulled a silver cigarette case from his pocket with two elegant fingers, and after tapping the butt lightly on the back of his hand lit up and took a deep drag. He held the smoke deep in his lungs for a long moment and then exhaled with a truly evil smile. Things would escalate quickly, and it should be quite the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been keeping the chapters short, but can make them longer. I don't know, someone told me not to make them long so they could read between class. Anyway, if you have any questions please leave a comment. Kudos are always appreciated.  
> I know my stories aren't everyone's cup of tea as they have no fluff and get violent. I can only write from my own mindset, and my mind does not contain fluffy bunnies. Unfortunately it does contain rage and despair, so that's what you get.I'm trying to give this one a dark atmosphere with less gore, but who knows? I will give you a happy ending of sorts, but it won't be traditional. I'll try to please the readers and I hope you enjoy.


	5. Feast or Famine

As Gold watched two females at the table in front of him embraced. A brunette and a blond, sunshine wheat fields and moonlight on a winter pond, both were stunning. The brunette slanted her dark feline eyes at Gold as she ran her nimble hands up from the blonde’s plump backside to her shoulders, gripping hard. The brunette lowered her blood painted lips to kiss the blonde fiercely, all the while staring at the fascinating man in black. The blonde moaned unashamedly and the dark icicle brunette stroked her, smiling an oily serpentine slash at him. She radiated domination and pure sex, but right now she was putting on a show for Gold’s pleasure. 

Gold smirked, pointing with a long elegant finger at the filthy tabletop in front of him. The tall brunette obediently pushed the blonde back and down on the dirty table, forcing her long pale legs apart. As the elegant gentleman sat, seemingly uninterested, the brunette grinned at him again and lowered her full lips to the blonde’s exposed crotch. With a sneer, she used her sharp little white teeth to grip her friends panties in her teeth and drag them down the legs of the now trembling blonde. She paused a moment to cruelly bite a white thigh.

Writhing about on the table the blonde lifted a pale leg and wrapped it around the brunette’s back, her glossy red high heel reflecting the club’s pulsating lights. The dark woman lowered her mouth to the swollen pussy of her friend, expertly tonguing her to the edge , while the blonde shook and moaned, her white limbs straining with effort. She glowed with a golden sheen of perspiration, the noises escaping her animal sounds. All the while the dark haired beauty stared into Gold’s bottomless black eyes, the brutal iciness she saw there driving on her own depraved culmination. She shrieked in satisfaction. 

At the table next to the girls, another couple was already on the sticky floor, the man kneeling over a squirming woman as he forced his large cock to the back of her throat, choking her, and she moaned and struggled in exquisite pleasure.

Nearby a thin white man thrust two fingers into his mouth and licked them, then spreading apart the ass cheeks of the black man kneeling in front of him, and dipping his moist fingers into the groaning and panting man’s asshole. He didn’t wait long before replacing the fingers with an angry red and dripping cock. A third man joined them, shoving his twitching throbbing cock into the black man’s mouth, groaning and gasping in orgiastic bliss. 

All over the club it was much the same, people giving into their basest instincts, lust running wild. The moist musky smell of sex permeated the smoky air, the pounding music swelled and pulsed over the gyrating sweating bodies. Sounds of flesh slapping flesh, wet squelchings and violent smacks, grunts, gasps, and groans. It looked like a scene straight out of hell, gleeful unrepentant joyous sin.

Gold tasted it and found it superb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of SwanQueen


	6. Pray

Gold swaggered out of the club into the dank night, leaving behind him the fading sounds of the ongoing orgy. All his senses were firing off, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck standing up with electricity. He had fed well, and was feeling strong, invulnerable. His super sharpened hearing could pick up the sounds of cockroaches scuttling in nearby buildings, he could smell the oil burning in boat engines on the waterfront miles away. His pupils had dilated so wide that his eyes appeared like black pools. He was high on pure sensation.

This life had its rewards, definitely, the thrills of emotion and feeling. But it lacked someone to share it with, someone to understand. The long years could stretch ahead, hollow.

But for now, it was a beautiful night, sweet with sin and satiety. Gold inhaled deeply, with satisfaction. And noticed a familiar scent. 

It's her. 

He would recognize that scent anywhere, a light gardenia smell, innocent and white, pure. Gold stopped in his tracks, his nostrils flaring like the predator he was. Thank the God's he had just fed, or she wouldn't have been remotely safe. He groaned silently as the night breeze carried to his greedy nose another dose of her innocence. He was immediately aroused.

From just the smell of her, Gold could read her state of mind. She was curious, and a tad fearful. The fear caused his cock to twitch. The things he could do to her. Really, she was asking for it, following him like a curious kitten.

Gold stretched, displaying his body. He felt the girl’s keen interest, her young arousal. His eyes could see easily in the night, spied her watching him, wide eyed and feeling defiant, tracking a stranger in the night. If only she knew the danger she was putting herself in! Her innocent game could go too far.

“I know you’re there, dearie. Might as well come on out.” He kept his voice soft and non threatening, but clearly heard the girl gasp as she turned to flee. Quicker than the human eye could track, Gold had the girl pinned up against the tree, his hands on  
her waist and his mouth near her ear.

“Why are you following me?” He breathed it into her hair, his hands kneading gently at her sides. Leaning even closer, Gold dragged his sharp nose over her downy cheek, inhaling as he did.

“What? I’m not!” Fear oozed from her pores.

“Liar, liar,”he whispered, waggling his fingers. “Such a pretty young thing, telling such lies.” His lips barely touched her neck, and he felt her shiver. “Lies can get you in such terrible trouble, my dear.” His hand circled her throat, loosely. Pressing closer he let the tip of his tongue touch her, tasting, questing for that elusive flavor of purity, stirring the demon within. It hungered again, clawing up and outward, and he clamped down on it tightly.

“Let me go.” She said it bravely, and Gold laughed. 

“As you wish.”

In the space of a breath, he was miles away, singing to himself as he strutted through the night.

 

 

Gold is singing Hot Chocolate’s “Are You Getting Enough Happiness “

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short prelude to set the mood. Let me know if you like. I have pictures I wanted to add, but I don't know how damnit. Next chapter will be soon, and regular length.


End file.
